


Carrie (What could have happened)

by nightssilhouette



Category: Carrie - Stephen King
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2380736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightssilhouette/pseuds/nightssilhouette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I fell in love with Carrie as soon as I watched the movie. But I just felt so bad for her, so I took it upon myself, (crappy writer I am) to give Carrie a happy ending. She ends up with Sue, just  saying, watch the movie and you can tell it was always there. This is not mine, it is a mixture of Stephen Kings awesomeness, the movie Carrie 2013, and a little nightssilhouette thrown in-between the lines. Who knows, it might be good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ChApTeR 1

Screams, loud, painful. Crying, crying out to God for help, mercy. A bible dripping wet is slumped pathetically on the stairs. Splatters of blood make a trial to the woman lying in bed. Withering in pain and despair. 

“Help me Lord, I’m dying.” 

Another scream and the woman curled into herself.

“Lord protect me in my hour of death- ”

One final blood curdling scream, than its silent. 

The woman reaches down between her legs and slowly pulls back her night gown. The little thing whimpers and squirms. 

“Cut it down,” the woman shakes her head. “Cut it down.”

She reaches for the scissors in the bedside table; she holds them above her head and brings them down. They stop, inches away from the little, bloody body. The baby starts to cry. 

A heartbeat.

The woman puts down the scissors and picks up her child; she brings it to her chest and begins to cry. 

 

16 years later.

 

She walked between the students, head down and eyes anywhere people weren't. She stopped and lifted them a moment to watch the tall, pretty blond girl and her friends come out into the pool area. She ducked and watched out of the corner of her eye as Tommy Ross, the most popular and handsome boy in school kiss his girlfriend. 

She looked away. 

The P.E teacher blew the whistle. “Come on ladies, in the water! Caps on please!”

She put her swimming cap on and lowered herself into the water, as far away as possible while still being in the pool. She watched the girls jumping and splashing water, trying to hit the volley ball over the net. 

“Don’t be afraid of the ball ladies,” Miss Desjardin called from the edge of the pool. 

One of the girls gave the ball a particularly hard hit and it went up, and came down inches away from her. 

“Okay, let’s get Carry White in the game,” Miss Desjardin said, “Can’t stand on the sidelines all the time, come on.”

Carrie inched her way towards the other girls. 

“Carry serve,” Miss Desjardin called. 

“Yeah, Carrie, throw it yeah!” Her team mates clapped. Carrie hit the ball; it hit the blond girl in the back of the head. The other girls gasped. Sue turned to Carrie touching the back of her head. 

She backed away in horror. One of the girls started laughing, setting off a chain reaction. 

“Ha, ha, so funny Chris,” Sue said, pushing her friend gently. She laughed harder. 

Carrie slowly walked forward laughing nervously. Chris turned and threw the ball towards her, “You eat shit.” 

The water splashed her, and her smile disappeared.  
The other girls started laughing harder. 

The locker room was filled with shouts, echoes, and the subterranean sound of showers splashing on tile. The girls had been playing volleyball in Period One, and their morning sweat was light and eager. Girls stretched and writhed under the hot water, squalling, flicking water, squirting white bars of soap from hand to hand. Showers turning off one by one, girls stepping out, removing pastel bathing caps, toweling, spraying deodorant, checking the clock over the door. Bras were hooked, underpants stepped into. Steam hung in the air; the place might have been an Egyptian bathhouse except for the constant rumble of the Jacuzzi whirlpool in the corner. Calls and catcalls rebounded with all the snap and flicker of billiard balls after a hard break.  
“—so Tommy said he hated it on me and I—”  
“—I'm going with my sister and her husband. He picks his nose but so does she, so they're very—”  
“—shower after school and—”  
Carrie quietly walked past the girls into the shower. After everyone went out she removed the towel and turned on the water. Carrie was petite, her form was soft and her eyes gentle, she could probably even be called pretty if it weren't for the dullness in her eyes. Depression hung over her like a cloud, dulling her features making her blond hair look sickish and her skin pale; and she simply stood, head slightly bent, letting the water splat against her flesh and roll off. She looked the part of the sacrificial goat, the constant butt, believer in left-handed monkey wrenches, perpetual foul-up, and she was. She wished forlornly and constantly that Ewen High had individual—and thus private—showers, like the high schools at Westover or Lewiston. They stared. They always stared.

She closed her eyes and washed her body with a piece of soap. She dropped it and bent to pick it up. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a soundless scream. The soap was covered in blood. 

She shrieked. 

The sound was very loud in the humid locker room.

Carrie frantically grabbed the towel and stumbled out of the shower. “He- help me!” she sobbed grabbing on to one of the girls. 

Sue jumped back startled out of her conversation with Chris, “Get off me you freak!”

“Look at what she did to your shirt!” Chris said, pointing at the blood smeared all over Sue. 

Carrie reached out as the girls lunged back yelling at her to stop. 

“Help,” Carrie gasped, “I’m bleeding to death!”

“Oh my god, its period blood,” Chris said in disgust.

Sue’s eyes widened, “Blood? Oh my god!” 

Carrie’s calls for help grew louder, “It’s just your period,” Chris yelled back. “Plug it up,” she said handing a tampon to her. Carrie reached out, Chris pulled her hand back smeared in Carrie’s blood. The girls started laughing, looking at it in disgust and cryptic glee. A tampon suddenly struck her in the chest and fell with a plop at her feet. A red flower stained the absorbent cotton and spread. Then the laughter, disgusted, contemptuous, horrified, seemed to rise and bloom into something jagged and ugly, and the girls were bombarding her with tampons and sanitary napkins, some from purses, some from the broken dispenser on the wall. 

They flew like snow and the chant became: “Plug it up, plug it up, plug it up, plug it—” 

Sue was throwing them too, throwing and chanting with the rest, not really sure what she was doing—a charm had occurred to her mind and it glowed there like neon: There's no harm in it really no harm in it really no harm—It was still flashing and glowing, reassuringly, when Carrie suddenly began to scream and back away, flailing her arms and sobbing. It was at this point, when looking back, that some of them would claim surprise. Yet there had been all these years, all these years of let's short-sheet Carrie's bed at Christian Youth Camp and I found this love letter from Carrie to Flash Bobby Pickett let's copy it and pass it around and hide her underpants somewhere and put this snake in her shoe and duck her again, duck her again; Carrie tagging along stubbornly on biking trips, known one year as pudd'n and the next year as truck-face, not able to catch up; catching poison ivy from urinating in the bushes and everyone finding out (hey, scratch-ass, your bum itch?); Billy Preston putting peanut butter in her hair that time she fell asleep in study hall; the pinches, the legs outstretched in school aisles to trip her up, the books knocked from her desk, the obscene postcard tucked into her purse; Carrie on the church picnic and kneeling down clumsily to pray and the seam of her old madras skirt splitting along the zipper like the sound of a huge wind-breakage; Carrie always missing the ball, even in kickball, falling on her face in Modern Dance during their sophomore year and chipping a tooth, running into the net during volley-ball; wearing stockings that were always run, running, or about to run, even the time Chris Hargensen called up after school from the Kelly Fruit Company downtown and asked her if she knew that pig poop was spelled C-A-R-R-I-E: Suddenly all this and the critical mass was reached. The ultimate shit-on, gross-out, put-down, long searched for, was found. Fission.

The chant grew louder, till it swallowed Carrie’s cries. Chris pulled out her iphone and began filming it. Carrie backed into the side of one of the four large shower compartments and slowly collapsed into a sitting position. Slow, helpless groans jerked out of her.

Sue stopped, she watched and felt as if something cracked inside her. Sue said slowly, hesitantly “Wait- I, stop.” Anger and a sort of wild fear gripped her, and before she knew what she was doing she pushed between the crowd of girls yelling at them to stop, just stop! When she finally broke free everything went quiet. The girls watched her, their eyes shining solemnly. Silently asking why she, popular, perfect Sue Snell, dared break the bond between those on top and those less fortunate. 

She didn't answer; she didn't even think she had an answer to give to them. A broken sob came from behind her and she turned back to Carrie. 

“All right, it’s okay, it’s okay-”she said soothingly, Carrie crawled towards her desperately, Sue was vaguely aware of how thankful she was that Carrie still held the towel tightly against herself.

“Okay, Carrie, can you stand up, ca- an you please stand up?”

Carrie pathetically clawed at her skirt, torn between reaching out, and holding her stomach where an acute stab of pain pierced her, “It hurts, it hurts!” she sobbed. 

Before giving her time to second guess herself Sue dropped to floor on top of all the bloody tampons and sanitary napkins and wrapped her arms around the girl, whether to choke her or give her some form of comfort she wasn't sure. Carrie writhed in her grasp, clutching frantically at Sue. She tightened her hold not sure if it was cutting off Carrie’s air circulation, until the girl’s sobs started coming less frequently. 

That was when the door pumped open with a flat and hurried bang and Miss Desjardin burst in to see what the matter was. When the girls were gone to their Period Two classes and the bell had been silenced (several of them had slipped quietly out the back door before Miss Desjardin could begin to take names), Miss Desjardin not knowing what to make of the two bloody girls franticly pulled them apart. Sue fell back, and Carrie started hyperventilating all over again.

“Carrie- Carrie, honey calm down-" 

“Miss Desjardin, I don’t think she knows what her period is,” Sue said.

“No!” Carrie yelled, the lights started flickering, “NO! NO!-" 

Miss Desjardin employed the standard tactic for hysterics: She slapped Carrie smartly across the face. She hardly would have admitted the pleasure the act gave her, and she certainly would have denied that she regarded Carrie as a small, pathetic nobody. A first-year teacher, she still believed that she thought all children were good. 

“Everyone get out, now- just get out!” She yelled over her shoulder. She turned back to a stunned Carrie, “Oh, it’s okay, come on, it’s okay.” A terrible and black foreknowledge grew in Rita Desjardin's mind. It was incredible, could not be. She herself had begun menstruation shortly after her eleventh birthday and had gone to the head of the stairs to yell down excitedly: “Hey, Mum, I'm on the rag!”

“Carrie?” she said now. She advanced toward the girl. “Carrie?” 

Carrie flinched away. At the same instant, a rack of softball bats in the corner fell over with a large, echoing bang. They rolled every which way, making Desjardin jump.  
“Carrie, is this your first period?” But now that the thought had been admitted, she hardly had to ask. The blood was dark and flowing with terrible heaviness.

Both of Carrie's legs were smeared and splattered with it, as though she had waded through a river of blood. “It hurts,” Carrie groaned. “My stomach . . .” 

“That passes,” Miss Desjardin said. Pity and self-shame met in her and mixed uneasily. “It’s okay, totally normal.You have to . . . uh, stop the flow of blood. You—” 

Carrie stopped listening; she painfully looked up and watched as the last of the girls emptied out of the locker room. At the last moment, Sue looked back. There was a bright flash overhead, followed by a flashgun-like pop as a light bulb sizzled and went out. Miss Desjardin cried out with surprise, and it occurred to her 

(the whole damn place is falling in) 

that this kind of thing always seemed to happen around Carrie when she was upset, as if bad luck dogged her every step. The thought was gone almost as quickly as it had come. She took one of the sanitary napkins from the broken dispenser and unwrapped it. “Look,” she said. “Like this”

 

When Miss Desjardin led Carrie up to the office fifteen minutes later, the halls were mercifully empty. Classes droned onward behind closed doors. Carrie's shrieks had finally ended, but she had continued to weep with steady regularity. 

She tried twice to explain the commonplace reality of menstruation, but Carrie clapped her hands over her ears and continued to cry. Mr. Morton, the assistant principal, was out of his office in a flash when they entered. Billy deLois and Henry Trennant, two boys waiting for the lecture due them for cutting French I, goggled around from their chairs. “Come in,” Mr. Morton said briskly. “Come right in.” He glared over Desjardin's shoulder at the boys, who were staring at the bloody hand print on her shorts. “What are you looking at?”

“Blood,” Henry said, and smiled with a kind of vacuous surprise.

“Two detention periods,” Morton snapped. He glanced down at the bloody hand print and blinked. He closed the door behind them and began pawing through the top drawer of his filing cabinet for a school accident form. “Are you all right, uh—” 

“Carrie,” Desjardin supplied. 

“Carrie White.” Mr. Morton had finally located an accident form. There was a large coffee stain on it. 

“You won't need that, Mr. Morton.” 

“I suppose it was the trampoline. We just . . . I won't?” 

“No. But I think Carrie should be allowed to go home for the rest of the day. And do study hall instead of P.E, she’s had a fighting experience.” Her eyes flashed a signal which he caught but could not interpret. She turned to Carrie, “Carrie honey, I’m so sorry that I slapped you,” she paused, “I could've handled that better… You know it’s totally normal for a young girls to get their periods, it usually happens a little bit earlier. Is this your first time?”

Carrie remained quiet; she lowered her head, but did not answer. 

Desjardin sighed and moved to take the seat next to her, “Honey do you know what’s happening to your body? Do you know what it means?”

“I don’t know, I felt something moving down there.” Carrie said. 

Mr. Morton quickly bit his tongue before betraying any sign of how disgusted he was. “Well, maybe you could see a counselor- or a nurse…” 

Desjardin stared at him. 

He blinked, “What I need to know is who started throwing… things, uhm-“

“It was Chris Hargensen and all her friends-“Desjardin began.

“Cassie-“ 

“Carrie,” Desjardin corrected.

“Carrie, did Chris Hargensen start this?” Mr. Morton said.

Desjardin looked at Carrie, “Honey you don’t have to protect them, what they did was unforgivable.” 

She didn't say anything. 

Mr. Morton sighed, “Okay look it doesn't seem like Carrie is going to point a finger so Miss Desjardin, I need you to get to the bottom of this. Let the punishment fit the crime.”  
She nodded, “Okay, you can be excused; we’re going to call your mom, okay?” 

For the first time during the conversation Carrie looked up, “What?” 

“We’re going to have to call your mother… I know we've had trouble in the past ever since the state stopped letting her home school you, but we've got to bring her into this-“

“No,” Carrie gasped, shaking her head.

“Sweetie we have no choice, we have to call your mom-“

“No!” she screamed suddenly. Morton recoiled, and Miss Desjardin jumped as if struck from behind. The water jug suddenly burst apart, sending water and bits of glass crashing to the floor.

Carrie got up and quickly left the office. She sat on the bench outside the door and tried breathing. 

“Hey,” one of the boys besides her smirked and made a crude gesture. 

She dropped her head and closed her eyes, waiting for her doom. When she opened them her mother blocked her whole view. She was not smiling.  
She took Carrie and they walked out of the building attached at the hip. Miss Desjardin followed them, making sure to keep a good pack of students between her and Margret White. She watched as Carrie got into the car. What surprised her is when Carrie looked out; she followed her line of vision and saw Sue. Desjardin vaguely remembered that a blond girl had been holding Carrie when the whole incident happened. She had a strong feeling she knew who the blond girl was, Carrie probably knew also. Sue, for her part, either didn't see or pretended not to see that she was being watched. Miss Desjardin looked back at Carrie, but the car was already gone. Something big was going to happen, she could feel it; she just didn't know how she felt about it.


	2. ChApTeR 2

Carrie stole a glance at her mother, trying to put all her anger into coherent words. Like maybe,

Why didn't you tell me this was going to happen. Don’t you love me. They laughed at me! They always laugh…

What came out instead was, “I’m sorry you had to come to school today mom.”

Margret didn't say anything, she glanced out the window before putting her hand over Carrie’s. They pulled up into the driveway, “Let’s go inside little girl.” She sighed, “You need to come inside with me.” 

“Momma, why didn't you tell me? I was so scared momma- I thought I was going to die.”

Margret opened the door, but Carrie couldn't stop, humiliation was still fresh in her mind. “Momma they laughed an- and they threw things at me. 

“We’ll talk about this inside Carrie,” she said slamming the door. 

Carrie furrowed her brow; she quickly got out of the car, “No! I want to talk about right here I don- I don’t want to go inside with you,” her voice ended in a whisper. Her mother stared at her before turning to the house. She stared after her before dropping back into her seat, she closed the car door. 

They all hate and they never stop. They never get tired of it. Imagine Chris Hargensen all bloody and screaming for mercy. With rats crawling all over her face. Good. Good. That would be good. 

She picked at the crack in the window.

Crash in her head with a rock, with a boulder. Crash in all their heads. Good. Good.

(savior Jesus meek and mild) 

That was good for Momma, all right for her. She didn't have to go among the wolves every day of every year, out into a carnival of laughers, joke-tellers, pointers, snickerers. And didn't Momma say there would be a Day of Judgment 

(the name of that star shall be wormwood and they shall be scourged with scorpions)

and an angel with a sword?

If only it would be today and Jesus coming not with a lamb and a shepherd's crook, but with a boulder in each hand to crush the laughers and the snickerers, to root out the evil and destroy it screaming—a terrible Jesus of blood and righteousness. And if only she could be His sword and His arm. 

She had tried to fit. She had defied Momma in a hundred little ways, had tried to erase the red-plague circle that had been drawn around her from the first day she had left the controlled environment of the small house on Carlin Street and had walked up to the Barker Street Grammar School with her Bible under her arm. She could still remember that day, the stares, and the sudden, awful silence when she had gotten down on her knees before lunch in the school cafeteria—the laughter had begun on that day and had echoed up through the years. The red-plague circle was like blood itself—you could scrub and scrub and scrub and still it would be there, not erased, not clean. She had never gotten on her knees in a public place again, although she had not told Momma that. Still, the original memory remained, with her and with them. She had fought Momma tooth and nail over the Christian Youth Camp, and had earned the money to go herself by taking in sewing. Momma told her darkly that it was Sin, that it was Methodists and Baptists and Congregationalists and that it was Sin and Backsliding. She forbade Carrie to swim at the camp. Yet although she had swum and had laughed when they ducked her (until she couldn't get her breath anymore and they kept doing it and she got panicky and began to scream) and had tried to take part in the camp's activities, a thousand practical jokes had been played on ol' prayin' Carrie and she had come home on the bus a week early, her eyes red and socketed from weeping, to be picked up by Momma at the station, and Momma had told her grimly that she should treasure the memory of her scourging as proof that Momma knew, that Momma was right, that the only hope of safety and salvation was inside the red circle. “For strait is the gate,” Momma said grimly in the taxi, and at home she had sent Carrie to the closet for six hours.

Momma had, of course, forbade her to shower with the other girls; Carrie had hidden her shower things in her school locker and had showered anyway, taking part in a naked ritual that was shameful and embarrassing to her in hopes that the circle around her might fade a little, just a little— 

(but today o today) 

Tommy Erbter, age five, was biking up the other side of the street. He was a small, intense-looking boy on a twenty-inch Schwinn with bright-red training wheels. He was humming “Scoobie Doo, where are you?” under his breath. He pedaled over to the car and hit his hand against the window, “Crazy Carrie, Crazy Carrie,” he said pushing his nose up against the glass. He laughed and began pedaling away Carrie glared at him with sudden smoking rage. The bike wobbled on its training wheels and suddenly fell over. Tommy screamed. The bike was on top of him. Her head began to feel tired and fuzzy, and it throbbed with the beginning of a headache. Her eyes were hot, as if she had just sat down and read the Book of Revelations straight through.

She got out of the car, went into the house and closed the door behind her. Bright daylight disappeared and was replaced by brown shadows, coolness, and the oppressive smell of talcum powder. The only sound was the ticking of the Black Forest cuckoo clock in the living room. Momma had gotten the cuckoo clock with Green Stamps. Once, in the sixth grade, Carrie had set out to ask Momma if Green Stamps weren't sinful, but her nerve had failed her.

She walked up the hall and put her coat in the closet. A luminous picture above the coathooks limned a ghostly Jesus hovering grimly over a family seated at the kitchen table. Beneath was the caption (also luminous): The Unseen Guest.  
She went into the living room and stood in the middle of the faded, starting-to-be-threadbare rug. She closed her eyes and watched the little dots flash by in the darkness. Her headache thumped queasily behind her temples.  
She heard a pounding noise come from somewhere in the house and she went towards the stairs. 

Thump, thump.

She felt as if it were echoing her heart. The farther she walked upstairs the louder it got. Until, she entered her mother’s rooms. 

“Help me father-“ 

Thump.

Carrie walked closer to her mother.

“Sweet lord-“

Thump.

“Momma?”

Thump.

“Momma!” 

Her mother brought her head up, eyes glazed over and dazed. 

“I don’t want to upset you,” Carrie said, moving to sit next to her. 

“You’re a woman now.”

Carrie felt her face twisting and crumpling and could not help it.

“And God made Eve from the rib of Adam,” Momma said. “And what Carrie? Say it.”

“No momma-“

“Say it.”

“No, talk to me-“

“Say it.”

“Please just talk to me,” Carrie felt her voice rising.

“And Eve was weak-“

“Momma I just want you to talk to me-“

“And Eve was weak and loosed the raven on the world,” Momma continued, “and the raven was called Sin, and the first Sin was Intercourse.”

“The first sin was intercourse,” Carrie echoed. “But, momma- why didn’t you just-“

“Say it.”

“But why didn’t you just tell me-“

“And the Lord visited Eve with a Curse-“ 

“But momma it hurts-“

“And the Curse was the Curse of Blood.”

Carrie stood up, “I’m not going to say that! That’s not even in the bible and- and it doesn't say that anywhere.” 

Momma clasped her hands together, “please don’t let the curse come upon her as it did Eve.”

“Momma! I’m not Eve I- I didn’t sin.”

“You showered with those other girls, you had lust filled thoughts.”

“But everyone does that, I don’t want to be different”

“He can smell the sin on you and he will punish you!” She brought the heavy bible she was cradling down on Carrie’s head; making her gasp and fall to her knees. “I have to protect you, keep you away form that school-“

Carrie stood up, “God is good momma, he- he loves us,” she turned and hurried down the stairs. Her mother calling verses after her. At the bottom she turned, “You didn’t tell me and they laughed! I didn’t sin, you sinned.” she seemed to see a flash of fear in Momma's eyes, gone as quickly and soundlessly as summer lightning.

“I did not sin,” she descended the rest of the stairs. She went to the right and opened the worst place of all, the home of terror, the cave where all hope, all resistance to God's will—and Momma's—was extinguished. The closet door leered open. Inside, below a hideous blue bulb that was always lit, was Derrault's conception of Jonathan Edwards' famous sermon, Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.

Momma began to force Carrie toward the blue glare of the closet. “Pray to God and your sins may be washed away.” 

“Mommy, let me go.” 

“Pray,”

Now Momma dragged her, half-standing and half-crawling, she was whirled into the closet headfirst and she struck the far wall and fell on the floor in a semidaze. The door slammed, Margret locked the door and put her head against it, “You pray little girl, pray for your sins!”

She was alone with Momma's angry God. 

The blue light glared on a picture of a huge and bearded Yahweh who was casting screaming multitudes of humans down through cloudy depths into an abyss of fire. Below them, black horrid figures struggled through the flames of perdition while the Black Man sat on a huge flame-colored throne with a trident in one hand. His body was that of a man, but he had a spiked tail and the head of a jackal.  
Carrie began to panic, suddenly it felt as if she would never leave be trapped in this box forever. She slammed against the door, drowning out Momma’s “You pray little girl, pray for forgiveness,” with her own screams. Carrie's whirling mind strove to find something huge enough to express her agony, shame, terror, hate, fear. It seemed her whole life had narrowed to this miserable, beaten point of rebellion. 

“You Fuc-!” Her voice was drowned out by the sound of a huge crack, as if God thought it fun to throw a lightning bolt at the heavy door. She stepped back, (Margret did the same), and looked at the long gagged scar that ran down the door. Carrie fell back and began rocking on her heals, hugging herself tightly. She looked at the crucifix Jesus, and trembled as blood dripped from his stone body. She choked on her own sobs and started praying.


	3. ChApTeR 3

When they had finished making love, as she slowly put her clothes in order in the back seat of Tommy Ross's 1963 Ford, Sue Snell found her thoughts turning back to Carrie White. It was Friday night and Tommy 

(who was looking pensively out the back window with his pants still down around his ankles; the effect was comic) 

had taken her bowling. That, of course, was a mutually accepted excuse. Fornication had been on their minds from the word go. 

She had been going out more or less steadily with Tommy ever since October (it was now May) and they had been lovers for only two weeks. Seven times, she amended. Tonight had been the seventh. There had been no fireworks yet, no bands playing “Stars and Stripes Forever,” but it had gotten a little better. The first time had hurt like hell. Her girlfriends, Helen Shyres and Jeanne Gault, had both done It, and they both assured her that it only hurt for a minute—like getting a shot of penicillin—and then it was roses. But for Sue, the first time had been like being reamed out with a hoe handle. Tommy had confessed to her since, with a grin that he had gotten the rubber on wrong, too. Tonight was only the second time she had begun to feel something like pleasure, and then it was over. Tommy had held out for as long as he could, but then it was just . . . over. It seemed like an awful lot of rubbing for a little warmth. 

In the aftermath she felt low and melancholy, and her thoughts turned to Carrie in this light. A wave of remorse caught her with all emotional guards down, and when Tommy turned back from the view of Brickyard Hill, she was crying. “Hey,” he said, alarmed. “Oh, hey.” He held her clumsily.

“'S all right,” she said, still weeping. “It's not you. I did a shity thing today. I was just thinking of it.” 

“What?” He patted the back of her neck gently. So she found herself launching into the story of that morning's incident, hardly believing it was herself she was listening to. Facing the thing frankly, she realized the main reason she had allowed Tommy to have her was because she was in

(love? infatuation? didn't matter results were the same) 

with him, and now to put herself in this position—cohort in a nasty shower-room joke—was hardly the approved method to hook a fella. And Tommy was, of course, Popular. As someone who had been Popular herself all her life, it had almost seemed written that she would meet and fall in love with someone as Popular as she. They were almost certain to be voted King and Queen of the high school Spring Ball, and the senior class had already voted them class couple for the yearbook. They had become a fixed star in the shifting firmament of the high school's relationships, the acknowledged Romeo and Juliet. And she knew with sudden hatefulness that there was one couple like them in every white suburban high school in America. And having something she had always longed for—a sense of place, of security, of status—she found that it carried uneasiness with it like a darker sister. It was not the way she had conceived it. There were dark things lumbering around their warm circle of light. The idea that she had let him fuck her 

(do you have to say it that way yes this time I do) 

simply because he was Popular, for instance. The fact that they fit together walking, or that she could look at their reflection in a store window and think, There goes a handsome couple. She was quite sure 

(or only hopeful) 

that she wasn't that weak, not that liable to fall docilely into the complacent expectations of parents, friends, and even herself. But now there was this shower thing, where she had gone along and pitched in with high, savage glee. The word she was avoiding was expressed To Conform, in the infinitive, and it conjured up miserable images of hair in rollers, long afternoons in front of the ironing board in front of the soap operas while hubby was off busting heavies in an anonymous Office; of joining the P.T.A. and then the country club when their income moved into five figures; of pills in circular yellow cases without number to insure against having to move out of the misses' sizes before it became absolutely necessary and against the intrusion of repulsive little strangers who shat in their pants and screamed for help at two in the morning; of fighting with desperate decorum to keep the niggers out of Kleen Korners, standing shoulder to shoulder with Terri Smith (Miss Potato Blossom of 1975) and Vicki Jones (Vice President of the Women's League), armed with signs and petitions and sweet, slightly desperate smiles. 

Carrie, it was that goddamned Carrie, this was her fault. Perhaps before today she had heard distant, circling footfalls around their lighted place, but tonight, hearing her own sordid, crummy story, she saw the actual silhouettes of all these things, and yellow eyes that glowed like flashlights in the dark. She had already bought her prom gown. It was red. It was beautiful. “You're right,” he said when she was done. “That doesn’t sound like you, but- wait, you threw tampons at Carrie White?.” His face was grave and she felt a cool slice of terror. Then he smiled—he had a very jolly smile—and the darkness retreated a bit. “I kicked a kid in the ribs once when he was knocked out. Did I ever tell you about that?” She shook her head. “Yeah.” He rubbed his nose reminiscently and his cheek gave a small tic, the way it had when he made his confession about getting the rubber wrong the first time. “The kid's name was Danny Patrick. He beat the living shit out of me once when we were in the sixth grade. I hated him, but I was scared, too. I was laying for him. You know how that is?” She didn't, but nodded anyway. “Anyway, he finally picked on the wrong kid a year or so later. Pete Taber. He was just a little guy, but he had lots of muscle. Danny got on him about something, I don't know, marbles or something, and finally Peter just rose up righteous and beat the shit out of him. That was on the playground of the old Kennedy Junior High. Danny fell down and hit his head and went out cold. Everybody ran. We thought he might be dead. I ran away too, but first I gave him a good kick in the ribs. Felt really bad about it afterward. You going to apologize to her?” 

It caught Sue flat-footed and all she could do was clinch weakly: “Did you?” 

“Huh? Hell no! I had better things to do than spend my time in traction. But there's a big difference, Susie."

"There is?” 

“It's not seventh grade any more. He was a dick to me! What did Carrie White ever do to you?” She didn't answer because she couldn't. She had never passed more than a hundred words with Carrie in her whole life, and three dozen or so had come today. It wasn't that she was, well perfect and Carrie, well wasn't, (but that was most of it), the problem was that Sue kinda thought she was. Not just because of her blue eyes and soft blond hair, but because Carrie was the only person who was, well herself. Maybe it was the pressure of College, or any other number of excuses, but Sue just didn't want to be what everyone else wanted her to be anymore. Maybe Carrie could show her who she really was. 

She vanished the thought immediately. She was wrong, of course she was wrong, perfect little Sue Snell couldn't possibly be in love with a girl. She felt sick and humiliated at her own mockery. She thought herself suddenly loathsome, and found she could not bear that; so she twisted it at him. 

“When did you start making all these big moral decisions? After you started fucking me?” She saw the good humor fade from his face and was sorry. 

“Guess I should have kept quiet,” he said, and pulled up his pants. 

“It's not you, it's me.” She put a hand on his arm. “I'm ashamed, okay?” 

“I know,” he said. “But I shouldn't be giving advice. I'm not very good at it.” 

“Tommy, do you ever hate being so . . . well, Popular?” 

“Me?” The question wrote surprise on his face. “Do you mean like football and class president and that stuff?” 

“Yes.” 

“No. It's not very important. High school isn't a very important place. When you're going you think it's a big deal, but when it's over nobody really thinks it was great unless they're beered up. That's how my brother and his buddies are, anyway.” It did not soothe her; it made her fears worse. Little Susie mix 'n match from Ewen High School, Head Cupcake of the entire Cupcake Brigade. Prom gown kept forever in the closet, wrapped in protective plastic. The night pressed dark against the slightly steamed car windows. “I'll probably end up working at my dad's car lot,” he said. “I'll spend my Friday and Saturday nights down at Uncle Billy's or out at The Cavalier drinking beer and talking about the Saturday afternoon I got that fat pitch from Saunders and we upset Dorchester. Get married to some nagging broad and always own last year's model, vote Democrat—” 

“Don't,” she said, her mouth suddenly full of a dark, sweet horror. She pulled him to her. “Love me. My head is so bad tonight. Love me. Love me.” 

He pulled her close and made love to her again. She felt herself rising higher, higher, then it ended and she was left feeling even more sick and dirty than after the shower incident. 

Later, on the way home, he asked her formally if she would go to the Spring Ball with him. She said she would. He asked her if she had decided what to do about Carrie. She said she hadn't. He said that it made no difference, but she thought that it did. It had begun to seem that it meant all the difference. 

* * *

“And that ladies and gentlemen is why he lost his licence,” Chris laughed at her boyfriend. The three of them, (Norma, Billy and herself) ran up the stairs into his apartment. Chris went first, “Cheek the email, cheek the email,” 

“No!” Norma laughed jumping on top of Chris who was trying to open her laptop. 

“Wow,” Billy took a drink of something he left on the nightstand, “Why don’t you two kiss while you’re at it?” 

They stopped and with a sly grin Norma leaned in closer to Chris. “Ah, don’t be so stupid,” Chris said grabbing on to Billy’s shirt. 

Norma averted her eyes, “Wait, don’t you think we’re going to get detention for that?”

“No,” Chris said slightly annoyed at being interrupted, “They should be thanking us for helping her through her first period. I got her a tampon, so what?”

Norma wasn't so convinced.

Chris smiled, “We should post it.” 

“No, I’m in it!”

Chris untangled herself from Billy and moved towards the laptop, “Carrie White, favorite movie?”

“Blood sport,” Billy chuckled. 

“Bloody Marry,” Chris hit enter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV switches between Sue and Carrie, watch you don't get confused.

“Did you finish your prayer little girl?” Momma asked, stroking Carrie’s hair. She slowly opened her eyes, she must have fallen asleep. 

She nodded and moved to a half laying position. “Yes mommy.”

“That’s my good girl,” Momma reached down and kissed her cheek, “I love you.”

“I love you too momma.”

* * *

The girls waited quietly for their Monday morning Period One gym class, with no horseplay or little screaming catcalls, and none of them were very surprised when Miss Desjardin walked over. Her silver whistle dangled between her small breasts, and if her shorts were the ones she had been wearing on Friday, no trace of Carrie's bloody hand print remained. 

The girls didn’t look at her. Sue noticed out of the corner of her eye that Mary and Donna Thibodeau were holding hands. 

“Aren't you the bunch to send out for graduation,” Miss Desjardin said softly. “When is it? A month? And Prom even less than that. Most of you have your dates and gowns already, I bet. Helen, you'll be going with Roy Evarts. Chris, I imagine that you can take your pick. Who's the lucky guy?” 

“Billy Nolan,” Chris Hargensen said sullenly.

“Well, isn't he the lucky one?” Desjardin remarked. “What are you going to give him for a party favor, Chris, a bloody Kotex? Or are you going to pin a tampon to his lapel?”

Chris went red. “I so, don’t need to hear this.”

Desjardin had not been able to get the image of Carrie out of her mind all weekend, and now, as Chris tried to storm out past her, she stopped her. “You’re not going anywhere.” She walked over and stood in front of Sue, “What about you Sue? You and Tommy busy campaigning to be prom king and queen? They would have voted for you, not now.” She went back to the front, “I just want you all to know that you did a shitty thing on Friday. A really shitty thing, and one of you had the audacity to post a video-”

Sue glanced at Chris.

Desjardin continued, “Somebody made a video of it-“ 

Chris fidgeted, “This is bullshit-“

“That’s it, thanks to miss Hargensen your all going to be running suicide.” 

“I’m not doing it,” Chris said. Her lips had thinned across her teeth. 

“That's up to you, Chris. That's up to all of you. But anyone who stops running is going to be three days' suspension and refusal of your prom tickets. Get the picture?” No one said anything. “And while you’re running I’d like for you to think of what is feels like to be Carrie White.”

* * *

The car pulled up at the school. Momma kissed Carrie’s hand, “I’ll be home to pick you up early after school.” 

Carrie pulled her hand away and got out of the car. She walked through the throng of teens, her long grey skirt brushing against her heels. Inside the school she followed her usual routine, head down, eyes- anywhere people weren't. She saw a janitor cleaning one of the lockers and looked up, she wished she hadn't. Across several of them in white paint was, 

‘Carrie White eats shit.’

* * *

“She can’t do this to me.” Chris said between shaky breaths.

“Just let- let it go,” Sue answered. “We’re almost done.”

“And every day this week I’ll be stuck with Carrie White?” She stopped running, “Like hell I will.”

Miss Desjardin called out from the sidelines, “Keep moving Hargenson, or your not going to prom”

“Fuck you! This is child abuse!” 

Sue stopped running.

Desjardin walked towards Chris, “What did you say to me?” 

“I’m not going to run another goddamn inch because Carrie White got her period but was to stupid to know what it was.”

“Your suspended, your out of prom and your out of my class now.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You can’t decide that!” Chris turned to her friends, “She can’t do that to us! If we all stick together we can—”

“Shut up, Chris,” Sue said, and was shocked to hear a dead, adult lifelessness in her voice. “Just shut up.”

“This isn't over,” Chris Hargensen said, backing away tears threatened to make themselves known. “This isn't over by a long shot.” 

And she was right.

* * *

Carrie walked faster, aware that everyone was watching her, everyone. She practically ran into the bathroom, the door slammed shut behind her. She went to one of the sinks and caught a glimpse of her own face in the mirror. She hated her face, her dull, stupid, face, the vapid eyes, the sickly color. She hated her face most of all. 

The reflection was suddenly split by a jagged, silvery crack. Half of the mirror fell into the sink and shattered, littering the floor with sparkly bits of light. She stared at the pieces in the sink, her fear gave way to fascination and she had an idea. She stared at the shards of glass and willed them to move, do something. At first nothing happened, except for the fact that her head was starting to hurt, she thought about Chris and the pieces started trembling. She was concentrating so hard she barely noticed, instead she remembered the message on the lockers, ‘Carrie white eats shit.’ 

One of the pieces flew forward stabbing into a bathroom door. She concentrated harder still, about them laughing always laughing, the pieces were floating now suspended in the air by an invisible string, about what they did to her yesterday. When they threw things and laughed they all laughed- 

Except one.

From some tiny piece in the back of her mind that was still her own she remembered warmth, she remembered arms wrapped around her telling her it was going to be alright. 

Her mind cracked, sending wave after wave of pain through her body. The glass fell once again into the sink or sprinkled itself upon the floor. She grabbed onto the edge of the sink and held her head with her other hand, willing the world to stop spinning. She was vaguely aware that someone had entered, and clumsily grabbed her bag and left. 

What did it mean? Carrie walked between the halls of her school, eyes downcast as always, except now, she was concentrating very hard. She hadn't touched the mirror, but she knew that she did it. She felt a flex, as if her mind somehow, moved. It was the same with the water jug, and of course, there had been the stones. 

She stopped again, blinking vapidly at the school walls. The stones. Momma never talked about that; Carrie didn't even know if her momma still remembered the day of the stones. It was surprising that she herself still remembered it. She had been a very little girl then. How old? Three? Four? There had been that girl in the white bathing suit, and then the stones came. And things had flown in the house. Here the memory was, suddenly bright and clear. Yes, she did it, but how? 

She made her way to the library, since right now her class was having P.E, and she was supposed to be in study hall. She entered and walked to one of the computers. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure what to do. She watched a boy with shaggy brown hair type rapidly. He looked at her and she glanced away. Where to start? 

She slowly typed in ‘Magic Powers.’

A series of titles appeared on the screen; she wrote down some at random and went to collect them. A little while later Carrie watched with rapt attention as a boy’s hand hovered over a piece of notebook paper, making it turn without touching it. She tore her eyes away from the screen long enough to thumb through an encyclopedia titled, “Miracles and Magic.” Her eyes glazed through the pages, until she found the chapter on telekinesis. 

Carrie stared out the window at a flag; or, more accurately, the flag of America. She concentrated on watching it, the way it moved, how the wind tossed it at different angles. The breeze died down and the flag followed suite, it hung limp against the pole. She stared at it, recapturing the way it moved. 

Turn, move, do something. 

It fluttered, then died down again. 

Move.

It stood straight out, like a piece of cardboard then slowly started swaying in the breeze, except there wasn't any. She smiled.

“Carrie? Carrie did you hear me?”

She turned towards the teacher, blinking until he came into focus. 

“Carrie, favorite poem, did you bring one?” 

It took her a moment to process this, her brain was still fuzzy. The class snickered, and it cleared instantly. “Y-yeah.”

The English teacher made an exaggerated gesture, “Why don’t you come to the front of the class and share it with us all?”

She pulled her cardigan sweater closer around herself, before timidly grabbing her English book. She shuffled her way up to the front of the class.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sue, Carrie, some Tommy POV, keep a sharp eye out. + Sue/Carrie fluff yup.

Sue looked up from her English book, P.E had been excruciatingly demanding and she had very little energy left to concentrate on anything else. However, she was aware that something was happening. Her mild curiosity turned into disgust when the English teacher purposely picked Carrie out to read a poem. He didn't care about her, Sue knew that much, Zoey probably put him up to it; he was banging her after all. It sickened her how low some of her classmates would get, they made a mistake and they paid the consequences, getting back at Carrie that way was wrong. But Zoey was Chris’s friend after all. 

Sue shifted her attention to Carrie, who was looking rather pale, or paler. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as she ducked her head and wrapped her cardigan sweater around her, Sue couldn't help thinking how cute she looked. Carrie grabbed her English book and shuffled her way to the front of the class. Sue wondered what a person had to go through to walk like that, head down, eyes downcast. Like the world itself hated you for daring to breath its air, surprisingly; it made her heart ache knowing that someone like Carrie felt like that. 

Sue brought her head down, suddenly finding English books fascinating. But she didn't see anything; all her energy was put into trying to hear Carrie’s soft voice. 

“This unfrequented place to find some ease-“

One of the students laughed. Her hand tightly gripped her Ticonderoga 2 pencil; she stared at it in surprise. 

“Ease to the body some-,”

Another sneer, this time she purposely bit her tongue. 

“None to the mind. Times past-“

More people began laughing quietly; something startlingly similar to anger began clawing at Sue. 

“And wh-what once i was and what am now O wherefore was my birth from heaven foretold.”

Carrie’s voice started to rise, blocking out the laughter. Sue lifted her head, staring as if in a trance, being swept away by the new confidence in Carrie’s voice. She decided she liked it that way, she like it a lot. 

“Twice by an angel, who at last in sight of both my parents all in flames ascended." Carrie ended the poem with a flourish. She slowly lifted her eyes, soft blue clashed with Sue’s own. 

“Okay, uh- that was disturbing,” Mr. Willman said.

The spell broke; Carrie ducked her head, but not before Sue saw the stab of raw pain in her beautiful eyes. 

The class laughed along with their teacher, boosting him on, “That was the most you said all year. Is there anything else you’d like to share, or are you done scaring us for the day?”

Sue had been biting her tongue, it was probably bleeding now. She told herself to keep quiet, that perfect Sue can’t stand up for Carrie White, again. She felt her resolve slowly slipping with each snicker or muffled laugh her classmates gave. And now that the teacher was in on it too? She went from threats to finally begging herself to not do anything stupid, but she did anyway. Carrie seemed to have that effect on her. 

“Asshole,” she coughed. 

The whole class turned to her, “Excuse me Miss Snell, did you say something?” 

Sue squirmed in her seat, she shot a glance at Tommy, but he just raised his eyebrows in astonishment. “Awesome,” Sue forced confidence into her voice, “I just thought that what Carrie read was awesome, didn't you Mr. Willman?” 

Carrie, who had almost started hyperventilating during her little episode, quickly went back to her desk. 

“All right, who’s next? Nicky- I mean Lizzy” Mr. Willman said. 

Sue reminded herself to breath. 

* * *

Tommy laughed with the rest of the class. Happy to finally have something other to do than doodle in his English book. Carrie was making an ass of herself, as always. The poem she was currently reading for example, what did that even mean? He turned to his girlfriend, to give her a ‘can you believe this shit’ smile; but she wasn't looking at him. She wasn't even looking at her English book, she was looking at Carrie White. An uncomfortable feeling crept into his mind. He realized people had stopped laughing, and shot a glance at Carrie who just finished reading. He was startled to see that she wasn't looking at the floor like she always was, and was meant to do, but was looking up. He followed her line of sight until he saw his girlfriend. Their eyes were locked. 

Mr. Willman began to speak, “Okay, uh- that was disturbing-,”

Sue’s eyes fell away, as he guessed, Carrie’s did the same. The uneasiness grew, it made him squirm. The teacher was still talking but Tommy wasn't listening, he was staring at Sue. She was fidgeting, and her jaw was clenched, she only did that when she was angry. He turned back to Carrie, who was obviously dying. 

“Asshole.”

He wiped his head around, hoping with everything that, that wasn't who he thought that was. He was hoping in vain. She shot him a look, he raised his eyebrows, he was honest-to-god confused. 

“Awesome,” Sue said in that confident, laid back voice of hers, “I just thought that what Carrie read was awesome, didn't you Mr. Willman?”

Tommy smiled, he was extremely uneasy, but his girlfriend was bad ass. 

Carrie, who had almost started hyperventilating during Sue’s little episode, quickly went back to her desk.

“Alright, who’s next? Nicky- I mean Lizzy” Mr. Willman said.

Everyone started breathing again, as Nicky- Lizzy, began reading some cliche poem. Tommy looked at Sue, but she had her head down. He glanced at Carrie, then did a re-check. She was looking at Sue. He dropped his head; his uneasiness now had a name. Carrie looked at Sue the way half the boys at Eden did. 

* * *

“Do ya’ need a ride babe?” 

Sue looked up from her book. She gave Tommy a half smile, “No, it’s okay, I’ll walk.” She had been watching him play lacrosse, honestly, it was boring as hell. But he was her boyfriend, and going was mandatory. Books were her salvation, currently “A Midsummer night's dream.” 

He walked over to her and took it out of her hands, “Why do you even read this crap? We’re not, like in school, reading is for school.” 

She smiled turning the book right-side up in his hands, “Some people appreciate literature.” 

He studied it for a second before dropping it and lunging for her. Wrapping his arms around her, he thrust his tongue into her mouth. She forced herself not to bite it. This lasted a few minutes before she pushed him away. “I need to get going.”

He looked hurt, but brightened, “Do you want to go watch a movie or something?” 

Before she could stop herself she blurted out, “Can we bring Carrie?” This was the stupidest idea ever to be presented by Sue Snell and she knew it. It wasn't that she wanted Carrie to come, that would have been awkward. She was just thinking of her and; well that happened. 

Tommy blinked, apparently going through a similar thought process. “Carrie?”

Sue shook her head, “Tommy, I was joking.”

“Hilarious,” his voice lacked any humor. “I didn't really want to watch a movie, I wanted to; you know.”

She sighed, "We don’t have to do that all the time.”

“I know but you like it don’t you?”

She didn't like where this conversation was going, this was complicated and Tommy wasn't supposed to be. He held her hand in the hall and looked good standing next to her in family photos, and she let him fuck her. That’s how it was supposed to be. Then why did she feel this way? Almost like she wanted more, she wanted to feel. That fell under the category of the second stupidest thing Sue Snell ever thought. 

“Sue?”

She slightly shook her head as if to physically remove her thoughts.

“I love you, you know that right?”

She nodded, he told her all the time. 

“Maybe, we could go and watch a movie, if you wanted too.”

“I’d like that,” she smiled, it didn't quite reach her eyes, but she smiled anyway. 

 

Sue licked the tip of her finger before turning the page. She was trying to walk and read at the same time, this was easier said than done. The book she was reading; however, captivated her. Lysander loved Helen, who was in love with Demiterius who was in love with Hermia, who was currently in a relationship with Lysander. Or was it the other way around? 

A wet spot fell on her page right above the sentence she was reading. She looked at it, then looked up. Dark clouds were gathering overhead. Sue sighed, she still had several blocks to go, maybe she should have taken the ride with Tommy. She walked several steps before noticing a path that she never saw before. It went away from the sidewalk through the little wood that ran between town and her neighborhood. She debated against it, but it could probably save her from a cold. Sighing, she looked back at her book and started walking down the little path. 

The orange and red leaves crunched under her feet as she walked; it wasn't unpleasant, but it was beginning to be. The trees were daunting, the way they stretched up, up until their branches scratched the heavens. She began walking faster, her face so close to the book she could smell the pages. She crashed into something, this wasn't unexpected, she was in a wood and practically walking with her eyes closed. She was bound to walk into a tree; but trees don’t squeak. She was going fast enough that she fell face first on top of whatever she bumped into, so that now, being in the position she was in, it was extremely awkward. She pushed herself up onto her fore-arms and looked down. 

It was Carrie. 

Sue held back a very unmannerly snort, destiny was playing with her. She looked back at Carrie, who was currently clutching a book to her chest. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and her top teeth bit down on her beautiful lips. 

“Carrie?”

She slowly opened her eyes, they were blue, baby blue. Emotions played over her face, her brow furrowed in confusion, then they went up in surprise. Finally she settled on fear, once again biting her lip. 

“Carrie are you okay?” 

She shut her eyes tight again, and mumbled something unintelligible. 

“What?” 

“Get off, please!” she squeaked. 

Sue blushed, suddenly aware of her exact position. She was laid sprawled out across Carrie, with her arms on either side of the strawberry blond's face. Their bodies were laid against each other in all the right,

(or wrong)

places. Sue mumbled an apology before quickly removing her knee from in-between Carrie’s legs. She sat back on her heels, mortified of what to do next. For someone so small, Carrie quickly got up, dropping her book. She frantically groped for it, and was basically running by the time she was standing up. Sue grabbed the discarded item and ran after her. 

“Carrie, wait!” 

* * *

Carrie was breathing hard, aware that someone was following her. She knew she was supposed to wait for momma to pick her up, but she couldn't wait, she might run into Sue Snell. She was beginning to regret this decision; true, the path was the quickest way home. She didn't think anyone else used it, the footsteps behind her said otherwise. She quickened her pace, but it was no use. It was still a good fifteen minute walk to the end of the path. What if it was a man? Momma told her about people like that. She said they were devil possessed, they would speak softly and make her feel warm and beautiful, then they would take her and poses her. She was determined not to let that happen to her, what if, what if she used her powers? She began to have a little hope, sure they weren't that strong, but she could do something. With this new resolve, Carrie made a decision. She closed her eyes tight and turned on her heal, fire, brimstone, the devil himself, she expected. She didn't count on being knocked off her feet. 

The person didn't move, then they did. He moved up, pressing his knee between her legs. She felt it, the warm feeling shot through her, she nearly cried, she was being possessed. 

“Carrie?” 

Did the devil have a girl’s voice? Carrie slowly opened her eyes, it wasn't the devil, it was worse. 

“Carrie, are you okay?” Sue asked.

Sue moved slightly, not much but enough to send one of those warm feelings shooting up from where her knee was pressed. Carrie shut her eyes again. Could a girl possess you? And if they could, why didn't momma tell her it would feel so good? It took all her willpower to stifle a moan. 

“What?”

“Get off, please!”

After Sue moved, she quickly got up, being able to think clearly now that she wasn't possibly being possessed. Somehow she dropped her book, she frantically grabbed it thinking only how she had to get away. Devil or not, it was Sue Snell, and only something bad would happen when one of the popular girls made contact with her. 

Sue called after her, but she didn't stop, it was a trick. Something embarrassing would happen, like she would stutter because she couldn't talk to Sue without dying inside, or Sue would say something like ‘Carrie White eats shit,’ then tell everybody. That’s why she didn't stop, but in the end she didn't have a choice. Sue was faster.

She grabbed on to Carrie’s arm, pulling her to a stop. Carrie wrenched her arm free. “Stop!” She started breathing heavily, her throat burned, “If this is some joke you’re playing just stop because I-” tears were falling in ribbons down her face. It was bad enough they made her life a living hell at school, but now this, was there no end to it? 

She walked a few paces and slumped against a tree, it was a big oak; out of place in the wood. “Go away, just go-“ her voice cracked, she drew her knees up to her chest and covered her head with her arms. Her slender shoulders shook with sobs, she could already hear the laughter. Chris, Sue, Mary, Norma, the list was endless. They would all laugh, even the teachers, because she was a pathetic nobody, horrible, worthless. Carrie White eats shit. 

Sue gingerly touched her shoulder, she pulled away as if it seared her. “I’m sorry Carrie, I- here’s your book…” She was quiet, until Carrie started calming down. Sue didn’t leave, instead she carefully sat down close enough that Carrie could feel her presence, but far enough to not be intimidating. She would have heard her if she left, but Sue just sat there.

“Do you like poetry?” 

Carrie sniffed. She was so confused, was Sue Snell really talking to her about poetry? She opened her eyes, out of the little cocoon she had her head in she caught a glimpse of a book at her feet. She slowly grabbed it, running a finger along the binding.

A midsummer night’s dream, it was one of her favorites.

She slowly spoke, “I'll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell-” 

“To die upon the hand I love so well.” Sue said. 

Carrie smiled. Maybe she was possessed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sue POV, some Carrie POV than Margret.

Carrie smiled, and a total transformation took place. It was as if a damn had broken flooding a desert with water. She was to put it simply, beautiful. “I heard that poem you read in class, I really did think it was pretty awesome.” Sue said. 

Carrie’s smile disappeared; she seemed to shrink into herself. Sue immediately regretted saying anything. She bit her lip, “It’s just that I didn't know you liked poetry, I kinda’ like it, I mean I’ve never really got into it but- I’m sorry, I’m rambling.” 

Sue looked up, Carrie had the ghost of a smile playing at the corner of her lips. “No, don’t stop. I like it when you talk,” she blushed furiously, and looked down as if she had just shared a secret piece of information not meant for Sue’s mortal ears. 

Sue smiled, “Okay, maybe- maybe I could read to you, only if you wanted me too. I mean, I’m not that good or anything.” She paused, but kept her voice low so as not to scare Carrie, “If you want me too.” 

Carrie nodded, with her eyes still down. She handed the book she was holding to Sue, who carefully took it. With her other hand Sue picked up the book she had discarded earlier, and gave it to Carrie. Who took it and hugged it tightly to her chest. 

Sue scooted back, until she was in a comfortable position against the tree, next to Carrie. She opened the book to where she had last been reading, uncertain if she should start from the beginning or where she left off. Considering this was probably a onetime occurrence she decided to start where she left off. She smoothed back the tip of the page, 

(she would bend them to mark her place)

and her eyes scanned the page until she found where she was, but was careful not to move, because maybe if she did she would touch Carrie. She cleared her throat, 

“Therefore I think I am not in the night;  
Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company,  
For you, in my respect, are all the world.  
Then how can it be said I am alone  
When all the world is here to look on me? ...”

Sue read a few pages, she sometimes stumbled on hard words, and constantly saying the name of whoever was speaking was an ass; but Carrie didn't seem to mind. Actually, if it weren't for the sounds of her breathing Sue would have forgot she was there at all. That’s why she nearly dropped the book when Carrie laid her head on her shoulder. Sue slowly looked down; her nose was almost buried in the strawberry blond hair. Carrie, she finally decided, had fallen asleep. Sue laid the book down by her feet and carefully stretched her hand. She yawned and took in her surroundings. Tall trees stood together, but apart like guests at parties that were carefully avoiding each other. While the grass was still green and there was much of it, orange and red leaves lay in small heaps or where strewn across the ground like confetti. The tree that she was currently occupying was a bit different. It was probably an oak, and young since it wasn't nearly as tall as the other trees. It was also standing half in the path, so that there was a long stretch of dirt to her right. But it was nice here, there weren't any leaves on the ground where she was sitting, because the oak was still green and it gave out a nice shade and smell. Sue brushed a strand of hair back and looked at her companion. Carrie was breathing rhythmically, and her nose twitched a little when a breeze softly kissed her face; a strand of hair fell lazily over the bridge of her nose. Sue resisted the urge to push it back, what if she woke up? Then she would probably leave and never talk to her again. Sue was surprised when she realized she didn't want that to happen, that more than anything this was just a regular day something she and Carrie did every day. 

But why couldn't it be?

Sue almost laughed, there were a hundred and five reasons why this couldn’t happen again. 

‘And yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays.’

The quote entered her mind like a verse. She quickly dismissed it anyhow, what did love have to do with it anyway? 

She should go, probably now. 

She gingerly lifted Carrie’s head and lowered it to the ground. Sue grabbed her book and turned to leave. At the last minute she looked back, she looked so peaceful. Not at all like she did at school, with the weight of the world and who knows what else crushing down on her fragile shoulders. A light blush strained Carrie cheeks and she crinkled her nose again, she was still hugging that book. Sue was torn, she wearily realized that she would like nothing more than to lie down next to Carrie, smelling that soft earthy smell she had and sleep forever. She groped around in her back pocket until she found a pen,

(she always carried her favorite blue one to underline good quotes)

and opened her book. 

 

* * *

Carrie opened her eyes and saw a little blue bird. She shooed him away, annoyed that he had woken her from such a good dream. She sat up all the way and stretched, it was so wonderful. Sue had been in her dream, but this wasn't one of the nightmares, it was the polar opposite. In it, Sue had read Shakespeare to her under the big oak tree, and it was warm and the birds sang. The little blue bird chirped again, hopping from the grass onto a thick book. Carrie watched it a while, then felt as if she had been hit by a train.   
It wasn't a dream.

She grabbed the book out from under the little bird, 

(who seemed undisturbed by having the ground pulled from under him) 

and held it up in the soft light that filtered through the leaves. 

A Midsummer Night’s dream.

She stared at the cover, suddenly aware of how little she could see of it. Looking around she also realized how little of the wood she could see. Momma was probably home already. She stood up and dusted herself off with religious obedience; she quickly picked up the book she had borrowed from the library, and ran down the path with them clutched to her chest. 

* * *

Margret carefully ignored the bell and woman’s voice coming from the front desk. She kept her foot on the petal pumping it rhythmically. Maybe if she ignored it long enough the woman would go away.

“Hello, is anyone there?”

That of course was wishful thinking. 

She abruptly stood up stopping the machine before she had time to second guess herself. She didn't particularly hate her job, she just hated the people. People and their constant need to talk about things that didn't include them, and to boast about all their sinful ways. Didn't they know the righteous was coming and they would all burn in hell? 

She stood behind the front desk and smoothed out her plain grey skirt with religious righteousness, one needed that to face the devil worshiper before her. 

“Oh, Margret. I’m sorry, I didn't know where Gloria was-“

“Can I help you Mrs Snell?”

“Yes, of course. I’m picking up.” She smiled .

Margret glanced at the card before picking out a dress from the racks behind her.

“Margret” 

She gritted her teeth. 

“I’m so sorry about what happened at school, there’s no excuse for what Sue did- but she’s a good girl.” She paused, “My daughter was the only one who helped her- at least that’s what Miss Desjardin said, I believe her. Sue would do something like that-" she said, either to justify her daughters actions or to defend herself she wasn't entirely sure. 

Margret, for one, didn’t think that either of them was justifiable. “Are any of those girls good?”

Mrs Snell blinked, unsure of how to take this. She furrowed her brow, then looked down at the dress Margret had placed on the counter. “Oh, this is beautiful work Margret,” perhaps she was a bit to enthusiastically, but she wanted to show Margret that she was better than that. That Sue was better, “Thank you,” she smiled her most charming smile. “I love what you've done with the neckline, and the stitches you can barely see them.”

Margret nodded, her teeth clenched. She stealthily reached down, careful not to let Mrs Snell see, and brought the sewing needle to her lower thigh. 

“So few people can sow like this anymore, I can’t-“

She nodded, but wasn’t listening, the acute pain from the needle helped her keep her mouth shut. 

“I’m so excited for her, I remember my prom. Anyway-“

She felt the wet liquid drip down her leg.

“She’s going to love it.”

Margret removed the needle, “These are godless times Mrs. Snell.” She looked at the stunned woman before turning and going back to her sowing machine.


	7. Chapter 7

Henry Grayle, principal of Ewen High School, had been expecting him all week, but Chris Hargensen's father didn't show up until Friday. “This gym teacher was running Chrissy into the ground and used profanity. I believe the term shitty was used, she can’t do that, that’s abuse of power.” He paused for effect, Hargensen was a tall, impressive man with a self-confident way of moving and the kind of sure, mobile features that said this was a man superior at the game of one-step-ahead social interaction. He was wearing a brown Savile Row suit with subtle glints of green and gold running through the weave that put Grayle's local off-the-rack job to shame. His briefcase was thin, real leather, and bound with glittering stainless steel. The smile was faultless and full of many capped teeth—a smile to make the hearts of lady jurors melt like butter in a warm skillet. 

“Yes daddy, that’s what she said, shitty,” Chris said turning to the principle, “It’s really abusive.”

Grayle sighed inwardly. “Miss Desjardin has been reprimanded.” 

John Hargensen's smile cooled thirty degrees. “I'm afraid a reprimand will not be sufficient. I believe this has been the young, ah, lady's first year in a teaching capacity?”

“Yes. We have found her to be eminently satisfactory, but you know we’ve had a lot of problems with your daughter in the past, and now with what she did to her class mate Carrietta White… the girl was having her- your daughter-”

“I see,” Hargensen held up his hand, “I’m not going to sit here and listen to half-truths, my daughter says she didn’t do it.”

Chris nodded her head vigorously. 

“I want her prom privileges restored,” he grinned, “You can't prove she did anything.”

Miss Desjardin spoke up from where she had been watching the whole scenario, arms crossed, “Well I believe there’s a video of the incident, and I think your daughters the one who took it.” Hargensen glanced at Chris. 

“I think a video like that would probably be pretty damning to anyone in it and to the person who made it, don’t you Mr. Hargensen?” Miss Desjardin asked, innocently. “I don’t know, I’m just a gym teacher, but seams like a video like that would probably affect college admissions; possibly a law suit. Tons of bad publicity, wonder what the today’s show would do with a video like that. I think we should just look at her phone, if its not there I owe you a huge apology and she should be allowed to go to prom."

Mr. Hargensen sighed, he had watched his daughter shrink into herself with each word that damned gym teacher said, but it made sense. Of course, Chris didn't put up that video, he and her mother had raised her better than that. “Chris?”

Grayle held out his hand.

Chris, who had been listening with mortified horror began to panic. Her father was alright, but when it came to his image… “Daddy, I’m not going to give him my phone, I have personal things in here. That’s an invasion of privacy.”

A thought entered his mind, one he wished hadn't. What if Chris, his Chrissy, had done something that horrible? He refused to accept it, it was all just a big misunderstanding, “Chrissy, just give him the damn phone so you can go to prom. Let’s be done with this, I've got to get back to work.” 

“Dad”

“Goddamn it, just give him the phone Chris.” 

She looked at her father, seething with anger. Then at Mss Desjardin, the bitch, and Principle Grayle, she hated them. She hated them all. No, she hated Carrie, Carrie White, and perfect Sue goddamn Snell. It was all her fault, she made them look bad. Sue made her look bad. 

She stood up, her purse clutched to her chest and stalked out of the office. 

* * *  
Carrie stared out the window, she jumped when her mother touched her hand. 

She gave her a curious look, suspicion lurking in the dark irises, “You don’t have to go to school today, or any other day-“

“No, its okay Momma,” she looked back at the window, “I’m fine,” she said as an afterthought. 

Her mother said nothing, instead she let go of her hand. “I’ll be coming home late tonight, again.” 

Carrie nodded, it was a blessing or pure dumb luck that Momma had been working later shifts starting yesterday. 

Yesterday. 

 

Carrie walked to her next class, study hall, which was currently being held in the gym. She held her backpack tightly against herself, eyes downcast as always. Although, today she was doing so with the purpose of avoiding someone in particular, this wasn't hard in the crowded halls. Also, she didn't have many classes with Sue. She walked into the gym, the polished floors shined with promise of the future prom, one she wouldn’t attend. Finding a seat in one of the distant desks towards the back, she placed her backpack on the floor besides her seat and took out her book. She opened ‘A Midsummer Night’s dream’ to the first page, and re-read for perhaps the tenth time the neat writing scrawled beneath the title in blue ink. 

“When you depart from me sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave, alas parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV got a bit away from me, just bear with me, k?

Chris marched her way towards the football field, but gracefully; she had a reputation to up hold. The field was empty, besides the few boys who took sports a bit more seriously then the ought too. This made her pause, they always did P.E outside, unless it was raining, which it very obviously wasn’t. She spied Tommy, who was in the middle of intercepting a pass from an opposing team mate. She waved him over. He took off his lacrosse mask and bounded up to her. Chris might have thought lacrosse was stupid and a waste of time, but goddamn he was fine. Even if he was that back-stabbing bitch’s boyfriend, not that she wasn't happy with Billy, but she could still look couldn't she? 

“Hey Chrissy, what’s up?”

“I was just looking for Sue, have you seen her?”

He wiped his brow, “Yea, she’s in the gym helping the prom committee or whatever.”

“Okay, thanks,” of course she would be there, everything had to be perfect for Miss Sue Snell, down to every goddamn detail-

“Chrissy? Earth to Chris”

She snapped her attention back to Tommy, who was looking slightly uncomfortable. “Sorry, did you say something?”

He looked down at his muddy sneakers, “Nah, I just-“ he studied them a bit more before looking up, “Has Sue been acting weird?”

“Like how?” she asked, a little more than curious.

“It’s probably nothing its just, is there someone else?”

“Like a guy?”

“I dunno, just someone.”

She had to stop herself from laughing, Sue? Really. Perfect Sue Snell, everyone knew she and Tommy would eventually get married and have the perfect American pie life together. Unless… “Why do you ask?”

“She’s just been, distant lately. She didn’t even want to have sex.” 

Chris grimaced, this was serious. Maybe this was the kind of serious she needed. “Who do you think it could be?”

He glanced at her sharply, “I didn’t say there was someone, I said-“ he sighed. “I dunno.” He gathered his gear, she got the message. 

Turning she walked through the damp grass, her thoughts running a hundred miles a minute. If there was someone else then this was exactly what she needed. Sue would suffer, she just had to hit where it hurt the most. Her perfect image, and Chrissy had an idea of who that someone was. She just needed to make sure. 

She pushed the gym door open, throwing her purse on the floor. Sue was easy to find, dead center in the middle of her friends. The girls turned to her, but Sue didn't. 

“Hey girls,” hate dripped from her voice in ribbons, but Sue still didn’t look up. “So I guess I’m officially out of prom.” She had the girls’ attention, but Sue still wasn't looking at her. Chris narrowed her eyes, “Sue.” 

She didn’t so much as glance her way.

“Sue?” Chris, walked closer and noticed that Sue wasn’t looking at the decorations sprawled out in front of the girls on the bleachers, but at something in the back of the gym. She squinted trying to make out the shapes across the room. It was just a bunch of desks and students. She looked back at Sue, then at the desks again. In the very back, she caught a flash of blond, unmistakably light blond. Chris smiled, confidence surged up in her. She knew what she needed too. She turned grabbed a basket, and deliberately dumped it on the floor. It apparently had glass contents because it made a terrific shattering sound. 

That got Sue’s attention. 

“I’m out of prom,” she repeated, “My dad is suing them, Jesus Sue why didn’t you stand up for me? We could have had them by the balls.”

Sue glanced towards the back of the gym, “We deserved it, for what we did to Carrie White. I think I deserved it.” She leaned towards Chris, “Desjardin was right, we did a shitty thing-“

“Bullshit! That Carrie goes around saying everyone but she and her mother are going to hell and you stuck up for her!” The gym was silent. 

Sue stood up, “You can be such a pig sometimes Chris, what did Carrie ever do to you?” She was standing right in front of Chris now.

She grabbed Sue’s shoulders, “She’s been begging for it since sixth grade Sue!”

She pushed off her hands, “I gotta go.” 

“Hey, I seem to remember you were in there throwing shit with the rest of us,” she turned to the girls who were silently watching from their seat on the bleachers, “What was it she called her? Freak.”

Sue turned, “I stopped.”

“Oh you stopped.”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you keep running? Hum?”

Sue turned back towards the door but didn’t move.

“Why did you keep running-“

“Stop it Chris!”

“You kept running Sue, little Susie. Because you've been dreaming about senior year, and the perfect boyfriend and the perfect prom your whole goddamn life.” Chris sneered, “You already booked the hotel, already practiced the sounds your gonna make, when you and Tommy make love.” She laughed, “That’s why you had this bullshit change of heart. You don’t give a shit about Carrie white-“

“That’s not true!” Sue looked around nervously, “That’s not true.” 

Chris smiled, “Excuse me then, I shouldn't have asked if you where so quick to deny it. Why is that Sue? Hum?” Chris walked towards her, making Sue step back. Her boot crunched, turning the glass pieces into dust. “Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m-“ she paused and looked at Sue. Perfect Susie Snell, realization donned on her, “Oh my god, you’re in love with Carrie White.” 

Sue looked at her sharply, anger and resentment written across her face, “Shut up Chris.”

She laughed, “Oh my god.”

“Chris!”

“What wrong Susie? Perfect little Sue, who couldn't possibly be in love with a girl!” 

The gym echoed, when Sue dropped her bag. Chris bent down to pick it up, she dusted it off before handing it to her. Chris dropped a little shard of glass into her other hand before Sue pushed past her. 

“See you around Sue.”

The door slammed shut behind her.


	9. Chapter 9

Someone was crying. It wasn't loud and in the immense wood it could have been leaves falling, but Carrie knew what she heard. She was no stranger to the sound. But now a scenario she had never been in presented itself, she could A: Go around the oak tree taking an alternative route and avoiding who she knew was there. Or B: see Sue again. The first option was tempting, no it was mandatory. It’s what she should have done, should do. But some small part of her said yes, said it remembered sun and warmth, longed for it; craved it so much that all she could do was stare wide-eyed as it took what it desperately wanted. 

“Much ado about nothing, and Romeo and Juliet.”

Sue looked up, startled at first then recognition registered on her face and she gave a crooked smile, “What?”

Carrie walked slowly towards her and sat down a few inches away. Yes, she wanted it but she would not throw herself at its mercy, “When you depart from me sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave, alas parting is such sweet sorrow, that I should say goodbye till it be morrow.”

Sue stared at her a moment then blushed, “Oh,” 

“Are you okay?” She hadn't meant to say it, it just sort of said it itself. 

Sue looked at her in surprise, “Yeah of course, why wouldn't I be?”

“Your crying,” she stated the obvious. 

“Oh,” she paused, “Did you hear?”

Carrie thought about this, she wasn't exactly up to date with- anything. Although, there was that incident in the gym; she hadn't been close enough to hear what they were saying, but she did know it was between Sue and Chris. She had known it was Sue because of those long legs, and perfect blond hair… she blushed, suddenly aware that the object of her affection was inches away. “No,” she stammered. 

A wave of relief washed over Sue’s face, but she looked away at some distant point in the trees. Carrie took the chance to look at her, but really look at her. She traced her firm jaw line, up to her full glossy lips with her eyes. She stopped at her eyebrows, which were furrowed in thought. Her eyes drifted down and rested on Sue’s eyes. They were so intense, and blue. She hadn't known Sue had blue eyes; she didn't have a reason too. 

 

* * *

A soft breeze stirred the leaves. Some yellow and a red one softly glided to the ground. Her thoughts rolled around in her mind, occasionally bouncing into each other forming a complete thought: Carrie didn't know, she hated Chris, Tommy didn't know… she froze. Tommy didn't know, or did he? What if he did? What if Chris or anyone in the gym spread the word, it would go through people like a virus eventually infecting Tommy, gossip works like that. Of course, it was only that, gossip. Or was it? She seriously hadn't thought about it, after her encounter with Chris she had run away. She hadn't known where too, until her knees sank into the damp earth around the oak tree. 

She felt a tingling sensation, like when someone whispers in your ear or accidentally brushes against your arm. She turned to Carrie and was shocked.

Carrie had been staring at her.

The younger girl quickly looked away, blushing a deep crimson. Sue repressed a giggle she felt she could barely control, as if it were going to come bursting out. 

Carrie picked at a twig that had fallen from the oak tree, “What were you and Chris arguing ‘bout?”

The feeling twisted. She felt tears well up in her eyes, and her throat burned. Poor twig, she thought as Carrie slowly skinned it with her nails. 

She paused, and glanced at her before looking back at the twig. Carrie didn't say anything, just let her silently cry. 

Sue watched her nimble fingers strip the twig until they blurred beyond recognition, she wished Carrie would say something. That Carrie would just hold her and tell her that she wasn't as crazy as she felt; that if the star crossed Romeo and Juliet had a fighting chance so did they. 

She felt a cool hand brush against her cheek, she nearly jerked away but it felt so good. The hand guided her down until her head rested on Carrie’s lap. She folded her legs into herself; the fabric of her skirt was soft and cool against Sue’s cheek. She heard the rustling of paper and the opening of a book,

“I pray thee give it me.  
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,  
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,  
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,”

The smell of Carrie filled Sue’s nose. She smelled so right. A comfortable smell; not perfume, just the earth and essential Carrie-ness, but it was a sweet enough smell to be bottled as one. 

“With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine;  
There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,  
Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight;  
And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin,”

She sighed in content and let Carrie’s soft voice carry her away from Chamberlain over mountains and past the moon until they found a place for just them under an oak tree. 

* * *  
“Things base and vile, holding no quantity,  
Love can transpose to form and dignity.  
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,  
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.  
Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste;  
Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.” 

Carrie turned the page, but thought against it. She was already two thirds of the way done with the book, but Sue had fallen asleep. Somehow, reading without Sue to listen to her wasn't as intriguing. 

She looked down at the girl in her lap. Sue breathed softly, she had stopped crying but the tear tracks were still wet. Carrie used a blade of grass to substitute for the lack of a book mark and put ‘A Midsummer Night’s dream’ on the grass besides them. She moved but decided against it, the oak felt good against her back, and Sue felt even better on her lap. Instead she let her hand and eyes drift over the older girl; golden hair that fell over slender shoulders, and a thin waist; down to white shorts that had ridden up. Carrie quickly averted her eyes and jerked her hand back, even though she hadn't touched her. She suddenly found herself in a very uncomfortable situation. She wanted badly to touch Sue; was her hair really as soft as it looked? Would her skin be warm against Carrie’s own, would her lips be as soft? 

She bit her lip and looked away, these were unholy thoughts, but she started to second-guess herself. What was so unholy about them? She didn't feel the same ugly feeling she felt when she disobeyed Momma or thought about what a boy would do to her in parking lots or roadhouses. This was different, this felt right.   
Carrie reached her hand out aware of how it trembled. It hovered over Sue before gently stroking her hair, as one would pet a puppy. She moved and Carrie stopped, horrified that she had woken her up; but Sue only cuddled her head against Carrie’s lap, grabbing a fist full of her skirt. Sue sighed. With new-found courage Carrie let her fingers shift through her golden hair.

It was even softer.


	10. Chapter 10

Sue ran up to the door, she breathed in and out slowly; adjusting her cloths and bag until they were presentable. She quietly opened the door, closing it even more so behind her. She waited, but there was nothing to be heard. 

“Mom, dad?” 

She breathed out. Of course they weren't home. Sue didn't know which one she preferred more, having her parents home to ground her for staying out so late, or never being home to ground her. 

“Either way I lose,” she mumbled, but her attention was caught on something else. A beautiful crimson dress was put on display in the living room. It was placed in exactly the right position so that the last rays of the sun fell just so across the fabric. She reached out to touch it, it felt like silk or clouds, or Carrie’s hair. 

She tried not to think about it, but her valiant efforts were in vain. The fabric started to blur, and for the second time that day tears rolled down her cheeks.   
She remembered how nice it felt when Carrie stroked her hair, she hadn't wanted to wake up, but when Carrie touched her she was so surprised she had abruptly sat up. 

“I’m sorry,” Carrie had stammered, “You just looked so beautiful sleeping like that-“ Her voice tapered off. 

Sue ran her fingers though her hair pulling it over her shoulder, “No, its okay really I just- wait, did you just call me beautiful?” A smile threatened to make itself known. 

“No- I, yes,” Carrie had whispered pulling her own hair tightly as if it were a life line. 

Sue gently touched her hand causing her to jump and look up, “I think your beautiful too.” Carrie had, had a startled look in her eye, as if daring to believe this could cause her to burst into unrighteous flames, which wasn't far from the truth. 

“No, I- momma says looks are sinful, that beauty is the worst kind of fever ‘n we shouldn't fall into temptation.”

Sue hadn't known how to take that. What must it be like? She had wondered, to think beauty was a curse. She brought her hand up to Carrie’s forehead, “I’m sorry to tell you this Carrie,” she had said very seriously. 

Carrie had looked startled, either because of the contact or the seriousness in her voice she couldn't tell, “What?”

“Your burning up.” Sue shook her head sadly, “Your fevers so high the chances of survival are slim, I don’t know how much longer you’ll have-“ she would have said more, but Carrie pushed her over. Sue grabbed her arm, dragging her down with her. Carrie reached out to stop her fall but accidentally dug her fingers into Sue’s sides. She hadn't been able to prevent laughing. Carrie looked at her in surprise, then her eyes narrowed. “No,” Sue said, seriously serious this time, “Carrie don’t-” Carrie grinned dangerously digging her fingers into Sue’s sides again. Sue exploded, jolting her body to get away from Carrie’s hands. Her arms flailed wildly as she had tried to push the younger girl off her. 

That was the first time she had ever heard Carrie laugh. 

Sue finally managed to flip them over, she used her feet to pin Carrie’s legs, her elbows on either side of Carrie’s face. Their breath came rapidly; Carrie had a goofy grin on her face that most likely mirrored Sue’s own. A strand of hair had gotten stuck in her mouth, and Sue didn't hesitate to brush it back. Carrie looked down, then quickly looked up again; probably from the view she had of Sue’s cleavage. “Your beautiful-er” She blushed, “I mean more beautiful, beautiful-er isn’t a word but if it were you would be it, or more beautiful I- sorry I’m rambling.”

“No, don’t stop, I like hearing you talk.” Sue got up sitting back on her knees, “I also like your laugh, and you’re a bazillion times beautiful-er when you smile.” 

Carrie had moved so that she was in a sitting position, she had listened with wide blue eyes and when Sue got to the beautiful-er part she smiled shyly. 

They sat in silence for a while just enjoying the warm evening and each others company. Carrie got up but Sue stopped her saying, “Wait, don’t leave.”

“I have some homework I have to do.”

“Then do it here, I skipped out on a few classes today,” Sue reached into her bag she had discarded earlier and dug out a book she had to read for English, she wearily remembered an essay on it was due tomorrow and she was only half-way through. Carrie scooched over to the tree trunk and leaned against it, pulling a text book and pen out of her back pack. Sue opened ‘The Outsiders,’ and lay on her back using Carrie’s thigh as a pillow. They sat in silence that was only broken with the rustling of a page being turned or a pen scribbling over starch paper. It was as comfortable as the birds chirping or ember leaves falling, a soft breeze making the branches sway and the golden sun that filtered through the oak leaves turning the particles in the air to fairy dust. It wasn't until Sue could barely see the letters that she closed the book, Carrie looked down, a ghost of a smile played at the corners of her lips. 

It was dark now, what little light there was filtered away and Sue was left in the dark with the crimson dress. She pulled herself away long enough to turn on a lamp and collapse into an arm chair. 

Carrie had laid down next to her, it hadn't been dark, but a few stars were already out; and for the first time they had talked. They talked about everything and nothing in particular, school, parents, hobbies. Sue had seen a star shoot across the graying sky, “Carrie look!” She grasped her arm and pointed as it disappeared with her free hand, “Quick, make a wish.” 

Carrie closed her eyes then smiled slightly.

“What did you wish for?”

Carrie looked back at the heavens, even though the star had long since disappeared, “That I could go to prom.”

Sue stared at the dress, light from the lamp danced across the fabric making monsters out of the shadows. Sue went into the hall and retrieved her book, she sat back down in the arm chair and read until she had could hardly concentrate on the words, she only had a page or two left but she was so tired. She closed the book and set it against the lamp, it wasn't Shakespeare, but it was worth reading. 

She thought of Carrie and how that’s all she wanted. Carrie White could wish for anything and she wished she could go to prom, something no one should have to make a stupid wish for. The dress stared back at her. No longer beautiful but cruel, sown together with her dreams, her hopes, and her stupid wishes. She thought about the wish she had secretly made on the shooting star and re-wished it. It had originally been that Tommy hadn't heard and never will hear, that they’ll live together forever and have the perfect life. She took it all back, and wished, wished on the crimson dress, wished on every goddamn shooting star she had ever seen that she could give Carrie what she wanted. Sue stood and took the dress off the manikin. She carefully hung it up in her closet.

And she knew just how she'd do it.


	11. Chapter 11

Her eyes were starting to burn but she ignored it. Carrie concentrated on the encyclopedia she had borrowed from the library, she squinted her eyes. 

Flex.

She was lifting the book. It was heavy. It was like lifting a barbell with very weak arms. The book slid to the edge of the bureau, slid out past the point where gravity should have toppled it, and then dangled, as if on an invisible string. A doctor might have been interested in what her body was doing at that instant; it made no rational sense. Respiration had fallen to sixteen breaths per minute. Blood pressure up to 190/100. Heartbeat up to 140—higher than astronauts under the heavy g-load of lift-off. Temperature down to 94.3°. Her body was burning energy that seemed to be coming from nowhere and seemed to be going nowhere. An electroencephalogram would have shown alpha waves that were no longer waves at all, but great, jagged spikes. She let the book down carefully. Good. Last time she had dropped it. She closed her eyes again and concentrated harder still, until she felt she might faint or throw-up. She was vaguely aware that a her bed room light was flickering madly, she felt a slight jolt and realized with fascinated horror that her bed was floating. She would have smiled had her head not been pounding so. 

She heard the kitchen door opening, but ignored it trying very hard to not lose concentration. 

“Carrie?” Her mother's voice, slightly disturbed, floated up. “I’m home Carrie.”

Tremendous weight. Huge. Unbearable. 

The bed trembled and then dropped with a crash. Her momma burst through the door, but Carrie couldn't see the knife she was holding. Her face was buried into her pillow, as if asleep. She heard momma crawl into bed behind her, whispering soothing words, she also heard when momma put the knife on the bedside table. Heard the metal scrape against wood. Carrie lifted her fingers, felt the blade tremble albeit she couldn't see it. How easy it would be, she thought, to simply lift it as she had the book, bring it closer, closer until it hung suspended above momma then-

“The quality of mercy is not strained.” Sue’s voice tinkered into her subconscious like a warm breeze through a winter window. “The quality of mercy is not strained…” 

She suddenly remembered everything that had happened last night, the forest, whispered words, Sue. Carrie felt a stab of guilt, she hated herself, hated herself because she had nearly killed her own mother seconds ago, and Sue still cared for her. Sue was still kind, even though she was a monster. Carrie clenched her fists, felt the knife lunge off the table and sink a safe distance away into the floor boards. She felt her mother jump slightly. Carrie shut her eyes and pretended to still be asleep, unsure of how well her facade was working. Her mother turned, it was a slight movement but it was enough for Carrie to quickly brush away the tears that tickled her cheeks with out momma noticing. She lay in the quiet, the dark, listening to her mother’s uneven breathing. She watched the night sky from her small window, how different it looked last night; she wished she wasn't a monster, that maybe if she could just be a bit more normal the possibility of Sue loving her wouldn't be so preposterous. There was a flicker of light, she smiled, but frowned when she realized it was just an airplane. Biting her lip, she tried to stop herself from crying, or at least from wakening mother. Carrie watched the small speck of light long after it disappeared from her view; and even though it wasn't a shooting star she made a wish anyway. 

* * *

She had seen Sue twice today, first in math then in the hall. She hadn't expected Sue to acknowledge her in anyway; it was still high school after all, so she was quite surprised when Sue rippled her fingers in a low wave when Carrie had passed by her desk. And apparently her wish didn't work for crap considering she had freaked out and basically ran to her seat, but at least she didn't trip on the way. 

Now she sat a good two benches away from her, because of course she wasn't stalking Sue, even if she did think a table and thirteen people away was a bit too much distance between them. Carrie took a bite of her apple and lowered her gaze back to her English notebook, she would see her again this afternoon anyway. 

“Hey Carrie-“ someone tapped her shoulder. The feeling was so alien that she jerked back, no one had ever touched her purposely before, except for her mother and Sue. She watched in horrified confusion as Tommy set his tray at her table, “I was looking for you at the, um, the library, cause that’s where they said you where, but you weren't there. So I figured you’d be here.” She didn't say anything. Tommy picked up one of her books, “A Midsummer night’s dre-“ 

She snatched it away from him, angry that he was here, that he touched the one thing she had of Sue that he didn't. 

“No- wait,” he smiled and sat across from her, “That’s like, about- people. Um, I mean like Shakespeare stuff right? Romeo and Juliet,” he laughed and said in a theoretical voice, “My pantaloons are descending, where-for art thou?” 

She looked away disgusted that Sue would choose someone like this over her. 

“Anyway, um, how you doing?”

She glanced at Sue’s table, barely able to make out the flash of blond. “I’m okay.”

“Cool, so you know how prom is in a few days, um, I was wondering, if you didn't have a date already maybe you’d want to go with me.”

She blinked, unsure if she heard right. Tommy Ross wanted to go to prom, with her? “What?”

“The prom, Friday.”

She looked back at Sue’s table, but she was gone. She suddenly felt like crying as realization seeped in. They where making fun of her again, everyone, the cheerleaders, the other students, stupid Tommy, and Sue-. She grabbed her books and stuffed them in her bag, she had to get out, now, or else everyone would see her cry. 

Tommy grabbed her arm, “Carrie-“ 

She jerked away, “Stop, just please stop trying to trick me.”

“No I’m not trying to trick you.”

“Aren't you with Sue Snell?” The words tasted like sweet vinegar on her tongue. 

“Yeah I’m with Sue Snell-“ he dropped his gaze, “She- she doesn't want to go.” 

Carrie backed away, confused and hurt, she knew others where starting to stare, felt their whispers piercing her skin, but all she could think about was how much her throat burned and how blurry everything looked. 

When he called after her she didn't stop.


	12. 12

The locker was cold, dark, it made her feel trapped like she was suffocating, but she didn't have anywhere else to go. Her cries echoed off the taciturn walls, mocking her. She heard footsteps, but didn't look up, not even when Miss. Desjardin knelt besides her, “Did one of the girls try something again?” 

“No, “ she finally looked up, “I got invited to prom.”

“Really?” Miss. Desjardin smiled and sat next to her, “That’s great news, with who?”

“Tommy Ross.”

Her teacher was silent for a moment, “Wow, with Tommy Ross, he is pretty dreamy huh.”

“Yeah, but…” her voice tapered off, “I don’t want to go with him.” 

“Oh, well is there someone else you want to go with?” 

Carrie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand furiously, deciding what to say. 

Miss. Desjardin puffed out her cheeks, “Tyler Foster?” 

She shook her head.

“Jake Coyle?”

She shook her head again. 

“Stephen K-“

“Sue Snell!” Her voice reverberated off the walls, it was louder than she had expected.

“Oh.”

Carrie hid her face behind her hands, mortified.

Miss. Desjardin kept her face carefully neutral, “Th- the girl Sue Snell.”

She nodded.

“Like a girl, an actual real-“

Carrie gave her a pointed look.

“Okay. Um,” Her teacher bit the inside of her cheeks, apparently unaware of how to deal with this scenario, “And your okay with that?”

Carrie shrugged.

“And your sure you like her? Like, like her, like her-“

She nodded.

“Oh.”

They sat in silence, watching the shadows slowly crawl up the wall. “Does she know?”

“No, but we talk a lot-“ she quickly glanced at her teacher, if Miss. Desjardin was surprised she didn't show it, “And I, I think- She’s so nice to me, and when she reads and, and… I’m stupid aren't I?”

Miss Desjardin looked up sharply, unaware of the sudden turn of conversation, “Of course not, why do you think that?”

“Because Sue would never like me like that,” she said miserably. 

Miss Desjardin gently took her hand, “Come here,” she said. She led Carrie towards the sink mirrors, “I see a beautiful young lady,” she decided where to go from there, wondering what a girl would find attractive in another girl. “What if you curled your hair, and maybe used a little make up?” She hoped she was right. “I don’t think your stupid, and I don’t think Sue thinks so either.” 

Carrie gently touched her face as if it were made of priceless glass, “She said I was beautiful.”

A million questions ran through the teachers head, but she shushed them all. 

Carrie’s eyes darkened and she drew her hand away, “What if it’s a trick?” she asked quietly, “What if, what if Sue- and if she doesn’t- momma-“

Miss Desjardin began to panic when the little blond started hyperventilating, “Shh, its okay, its okay. That’s not going to happen. You don’t think Sue would really do that would you?”

Carrie shook her head, her breathing slowly returning to normal. 

“Right, of course not. Sue’s a good girl, and she’s very lucky to have someone like you.”

Carrie turned back to the mirror, she pulled her hair back and stared. After a while she smiled, it was a doubtful smile, but a smile none the less. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Come on Sue, you and Chris are best friends. You two- if you three are planning on playing a joke on a lonely, defenseless girl-“

Sue watched as one of Chris’s friends walked by, “This has nothing to do with Chris, or you Miss Desjardin.”

“Listen- due respect Miss Desjardin, this is between Sue and me,” Tommy said, “You know its kind of like a private thing. And what is the big deal anyway, its just for one night right? Famous athletes like Tim Tebbo, he- he takes kids to prom all the time and everyone loves him for it.”

“Really?” Miss Desjardin shook her head, “Your hardly a famous athlete! Look, this is a really big deal for her.” 

Tommy sighed, “Look it doesn't matter, she said no anyway.”

“Well ask her again,” Sue said.

“Don’t!” Miss Desjardin gave her a long hard stare. “Why don’t you ask her Sue?”

Sue stared, her face white, “What?”

Miss Desjardin shrugged, “I mean after all this was your idea right?”

“She doesn't want to go with me! She deserves that one perfect night, and Tommy can give it to her. I cant.”

She opened her mouth, but nothing was forth coming. Miss Desjardin was surprised about the honesty she heard in Sue’s voice, the hurt. She wondered how much of what Carrie said was true. 

Sue shrugged, “I just want her to be happy, for at least one night.” She pulled Tommy’s jacket sleeve, then they were gone.


	13. 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sue POV.

Sue pushed her hair back out of her face, the motions were mechanical; her mind was elsewhere. The crunching of leaves caught her attention and her steps slowed as she reached the clearing. Carrie was pacing back and forth in front of the oak, on several occasions she almost ran into it. Sue leaned against the nearest tree, her head resting on the rough bark watching Carrie in amusement. When Carrie ran into the oak a third time Sue let out a soft laugh quickly covering her mouth with her hand. The younger girl looked up sharply, but alarm turned into a silly contentment when she noticed Sue. Carrie ran forward, stopping- nearly tripping over her own feet, before bursting forth again. As if she was in a car and not sure how to work the brakes yet. She finally stood before Sue nervously shifting her weight stepping on her grey vans.  
Sue laughed softly again and as if waiting for this sign of permission Carrie hugged her awkwardly around the waist. The younger girl pulled away to fast, but Sue kept her grip on the younger girl’s shoulder laughing again and settling into a proper hug. It was nice. Before it could turn awkward again Sue pulled back, she fiddled with the strap of her backpack before walking over to the oak tree. She looked over her shoulder to let Carrie know she wasn’t leaving. The younger girl hesitated before smiling and following after her. Carrie dropped to the ground in a bubbly heap while Sue opted to place her backpack against the trunk before leaning against it. The girls looked around awkwardly, smiling in a way that proved that albeit it was awkward it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

“So how-“

“The worst thing-“

Carrie blushed and glanced away, “Sorry, you first-“

“No, so’kay you first” Sue laughed. 

“I- I” Carrie stuttered, “I got invited to prom!”

Sue feigned surprise hoping that her smile looked sincere, “That’s- wow, that’s. That’s great Carrie. Who invited you?”

Carrie’s smile faded and her eyes darkened. “I- a boy.” 

“Well I’d hope so,” Sue laughed uneasily. 

Carrie’s face fell, “yeah.” 

Sue gently shoved the other girl’s shoulder, “it was Tommy wasn’t it?”

Carrie looked up sharply, something akin to surprise and hurt flashed in her eyes, “you knew?” 

“Yeah,” Sue licked her lips uncomfortably, she tossed her hair back and flashed Carrie a reassuring smile. “He talked about it, but I didn’t think he’d go through with it.” 

Please don’t let her known I’m lying.

“But isn’t he like, your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, but I don’t like to be to pushy you know. Like, not clingy; we aren’t like that.” 

Carrie looked at her blankly, “But don’t you love him?” 

Sue picked at the bits of grass that clung helplessly to the dirt. She spoke slowly, carefully, “There- there are things I love about him.” It wasn’t enough, she knew it wasn’t enough of an explanation but she hoped Carrie wouldn’t ask. She didn’t. Finally when she couldn’t bear the silence any longer she giggled a high, artificial laugh she always did when uncomfortable, “So I guess you need a dress huh?” 

Carrie finally looked up at her, confusion and other things Sue didn’t recognize slowly bleeding out of her eyes. “Yeah, I mean- yes, I don’t have one.” 

“Let’s go get one then.”

“Right now?” 

“Sure.” Sue stood up brushing the grass and dirt off of her clothes. Holding her hand out; she watched as Carrie bit her lip, eyes glazed over in indecision. Finally the younger girl smiled and took her hand. 

“Okay.”


	14. 14

“Sooo,” Sue drew out the word, “Do you- do want to go with Tommy?” 

Carrie looked up, glanced away then looked at Sue again, “Yeah, I mean- he is your boyfriend-“

Sue laughed nervously, “Yeah, it’s just I meant,” she tried to express herself more clearly, “I mean- is there someone else you’d rather go to prom with? There, that’s what I meant.”

The leaves crunched pleasantly beneath their feet. Finally Carrie said, “Yeah.” 

Sue brightened, girl talk was something she was good at, “So,” she nudged Carrie playfully with her shoulder, “who is he?” 

Carrie bit her lip, looking up at the leaves. Finally she scrunched her nose and said, “Doesn’t matter.” 

“Mehh, fine then don’t tell me,” Sue feigned frustration before smiling and changing the topic. “What’s your favorite song?” 

Carrie blushed, “promise you won’t laugh?” 

“Course not, but I might. No promises.”

“Bulletproof Love,” she hesitated, “by Pierce the Veil.” 

“Wait, isn’t that like a rock band or something?” 

Carrie nodded her head slowly.

Much to Carrie’s mortification Sue pulled out her phone. She quickly found the song on Spotify. The whining voice that came out of the phone soon followed by electric guitar wasn’t as bad as she thought, but certainly didn’t correspond with the pretty girl in a plaid dress and cardigan that walked next to her. Sue tried valiantly to swallow her laughter she succeeded; however, her face twisted up comically. Carrie shot her a, ‘I hate you’ glance that made it even harder to stop Sue from laughing. 

“What’s your favorite song then?” Carrie asked sarcastically, she quickly added, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to-“

“The Way I loved You- Taylor Swift,” Sue cut her off. “But I like Fall Out Boy too.”

“Oh yeah?” Carrie looked up hopefully.

“Uh huh, my favorite is probably ‘Young Volcanoes’ oooh no! I know, ‘Irresistible’ I love that one.” 

“Me too!” Carrie bit her lip, “I mean- I like it too,” she said; softer this time. 

‘DARE ME TO JUMP OFF THIS JERSEY-‘

Sue dropped her phone, the sounds emanating from it were ungodly. She quickly picked it up, turning the volume down before checking for any damage. 

“King For A Day,” Carrie laughed. 

“Oh- that’s,” Sue stuttered, “Can we listen to FOB instead?” Carrie hid a grin behind her hand and nodded. Sue looked relieved. 

Sue locked her phone before slipping it into her back pocket, she sang along,” I don’t know where you’re going but do you got room for one more troubled soul?-“she offered her pinky to Carrie. The younger girl looked at her in confusion, she tentatively held out her own pinky. Sue locked them together letting their hands swing back and forth. The chorus of the song played and they sang together, “Say yeah, let’s be alone together. We can stay young forever!”


	15. ChApTeR 15

Sue felt a tug on her pinky and turned mid-sentence to see that Carrie had stopped walking. The younger girl was looking at her reflection in the window of a dress store. The dress behind the glass was a pretty white thing with artificial leaves trailing from the shoulder to the feet. “Do you like that one Carrie?” She turned to Sue, her face flushed and smiling. 

“I’m not sure.”

“Come on, let’s go check it out.” 

* * * 

How beautiful. All the dresses, so many with so many different colors. Carrie ran her hand over a red dress, beautiful something Sue would wear. Her fingers trailed over the smooth material coming to a rest at the price tag. The dress was a sin. Momma said that anything that cost that much was most definitely a sin. 

“You like it?”

She was startled out of her thoughts, Carrie’s heart began to pound when she felt Sue reach over her and finger the price tag. How easy, she thought, to just lean back. To feel Sue’s warmth envelope her, her soft, expensive smell. But at what cost? She was already different, she didn’t need this to set her apart as well. And Sue? Poor Sue, she couldn’t do that to her, to her one and only friend. What about Tommy and Sue’s parents? No. Momma was right, anything that cost that much was a sin. Carrie pulled away, “I think it would look better on you.”

“You think so?” Sue blushed. Carrie nodded before drifting away to run her hand over the other smooth dresses. She tried to shake her thoughts from earlier, painfully aware that her moments with Sue were few and would most likely end soon. She couldn’t spoil them with such pessimistic thoughts. 

“What about this one?” Sue pulled a dress off of a rack, the blue and white glimmering softly in the light. Carrie ran her hand over the front of it, discreetly checking the price tag. Her heart dropped, but she tried to not let it show. “You should try it on,” Sue said.

Carrie shook her head, what was the use in trying on something you couldn’t have? 

“Come on!” Sue whined, “please, I’ll even try on the red one.” 

Carrie glanced to where the red dress stood, then back at the blue and white one Sue held. It would be okay, she thought, to pretend she had enough money to buy anyone of these dresses. At least for a little while. Sue apparently saw all this play out in Carrie’s mind because she smiled and pulled her to the dressing room. “Try this on, I’ll be right back.”

Carrie slipped off her cardigan and her plain dress. She pulled the blue and white one over her head, it was strapless but the bow and zipper at the back out of reach made keeping the dress in place difficult. 

“Come on out, let me see.” 

Carrie played around with it a bit more, but couldn’t quite reach the zipper. “I can’t get it on all the way.”

“So’k, I’ll help you.” 

Carrie opened the door and felt her breath catch. Sue turned to her smiling, the red dress hugging her curves in ways that made Carrie's body tingle mysteriously. “So, what do you think?” Sue laughed. 

Carrie bit her lip before looking at her Vans. “You’re beautiful.” 

“Why thank you kind pigeon.” Sue said in a fake British accent. “Here let me help you.” Carrie stood absolutely still as Sue moved closer to her. But when she felt Sue’s fingers brush against her bare shoulder she felt as if she had been burned, pulling back sharply. Sue stumbled forward her feet tripping on the long hem of her dress. Then they were both falling, crashing into the boxes stacked with dress material that had been piled neatly in rows. Carrie sat up quickly, pushing fabric and cardboard off of herself. Her lip smarted and her head hurt. “Carrie are you okay?” the alarm in her voice frightened Carrie more than the fall had. 

“I think so,” she mumbled one hand clutching desperately at the front of her dress and the other caressing her head.

“No you’re not, you’re bleeding!” 

Then she felt soft hands on her face, Carrie’s eyes widened in fright. Her heart pounding, sure that Sue could hear every beat. Sue ran her finger over Carrie’s lip, she looked so worried. But all Carrie could see were her eyes, her piercing blue eyes, afraid that if she looked down at Sue’s lips which were centimeters away from her own she might do something stupid. She might sin. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Sue asked. She pressed her forehead against Carrie’s and the younger girl felt her heart stop painfully in her chest. She couldn’t breathe, she needed air. she hadn’t felt this way since she was a young girl on the track team and had forgotten to take her inhaler to school one day. Her lungs burned, and what scared her most was the realization that she had always felt like this. Like she was drowning, always drowning and now Sue was oxygen and it would destroy her to have just a little.


	16. ChApTeR 16

Chris stopped mid-sentence. She saw Sue walking across the street, walking with a strange girl. Conversation swirled around her, but she was oblivious. Sue looked happy, happy in a way that Chris had never seen her before. She figured it had something to do with the stranger who seemed to be more sunlight than girl. The stranger stopped in front of the small Buttons and Bows dress shop. And then Christ knew. Knew by the way the stranger bit her lip and shifted her weight back and forth on her toes. It was Carrie. Carrie was the fairy girl who was holding Sue’s hand. Carrie was what made Sue look so happy. Anger and jealously flashed hot and white behind Chris’ eyes. She waited until they had gone in before crossing the street. She heard Norma call after her, but she held up her hand letting them know she was not to be followed. 

Chris pushed open the door, making sure to look inconspicuous studying the fabric in the front of the store. It wasn’t a big store so it was not too difficult keeping Sue within seeing distance. Until they went to the changing rooms in the very back. Chris picked up a box and maneuvered her way between the mannequins. She heard a muffled crash and quickly picked her way to the back. What Chris saw made the jealousy from before come back full force. Sue held Carrie’s face gently in her hands. Eyes glazed over in worry and something else Chris was to embarrassed to admit. The fact that they were on the floor in hundred dollar dresses and that boxes were strewn everywhere seemed of little importance to either of them. Chris clenched her fists angrily, how dare she! Chris had worked endlessly since her freshmen year of high school, when money and status began to matter. She fought her way to the top, where Sue so effortlessly always seemed to float to. But she hadn’t stopped fighting. Even when she had joined the cheer leading squad, only for Sue to be picked as Captain. Had proud she had been when she was picked treasurer of her class in her sophomore year, until Sue had been elected class president. If she got A’s Sue got A+’s. But she had known, Chris had known how unhappy Sue had been. That was the one thing that kept her sane, the one thing that made all the lies, all the rumors, and putting up with stupid people worth it. Knowing that perfect little Susie Snell could never have something Chris Hargenson couldn’t have. And yet seeing the way Sue tenderly brushed away the drop of blood on Carrie’s lip, the way she sighed and leaned forward made everything Chris knew crash down in burning flames around her.   
She quickly ran to the front of the shop, “Help!” she pointed to the changing rooms, “my friend tripped- I- I think she hurt herself real bad!” The cashier slammed the cash register shut and ran to the back of the store. 

It wasn’t until Billy had left and she had lain naked on her side of the bed at two in the morning did she let the tears come.


End file.
